Technicolor Christmas DiNozzostyle
by MacMhuirich
Summary: Written from Tony's perspective: his method of giving his teammates an unforgettable Christmas surprise. Tony.


_**Technicolor Christmas DiNozzo-style**_

_Spoiler warning / Tag__: Season 8 Episode 10: False Witness_

_Tony's POV on his method of giving his teammates an unforgettable Christmas surprise. I know it's a bit late...and that we're heading for Easter! It's also a first try to narrate in the first person: Tony. I hope I did Tony justice.  
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_A/N__: All conversation in the flashback is copied from the episode. I hope you won't mind. I needed it to explain Tony's actions. _

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Okay, all's set. Soon. Just a couple more minutes and then... Oh man! I'm so looking forward to this.

Okay, okay. I'm going to sit back and try to relax. _Stop fidgeting, Tony, or they'll know something's up._ Man, man, man, how I hate this waiting part.

"Hope this will work, or I'll slap you silly, Neisler. It had better be perfect."

"Trust me, Mr DiNozzo. I know what I'm doing. This'll be like fireworks on the 4th of July. You will not be disappointed."

"Good. Now vanish: don't keep Gibbs waiting."

"Good luck." And with that he was gone, in the wake of the fearless team leader.

Oh, oh, oh, ooh. They'll never have expected this.

_A ding heralds the arrival of the elevator and two very chatty agents make their way to the MCRT area of the busy squad room._

Here they come! Time for putting on my best poker face. Or better yet. Let's shuffle some papers. Yep, guys, as you can see, it's pretty obvious I'm rather busy, right now.

My heart's skipping a few beats in anticipation. Fun though it is, I'll be glad when this is over. All this excitement holds way too much stress for me. Not that I'm not stress resistant. It's just... Oh heck, I don't really need explaining myself to...myself, do I? It's just it's no mean feat acting 'serious' Tony, even if it pleases me to watch my friends guarded demeanor in response to my lack of humor. But, frankly, I'm tired of it. I'll be glad to get back to my old swashbuckling self.

Now, however, all I want is enjoy the results of my little surprise.

C'mon, c'mon...McGoooooo just...just move your skinny butt to your effing desk and sit down! Same counts for you Zeeva'h! Man! What's taking them so long?

Ziva regards me questioningly. "Tony, why's Neisler still there?"

I look up at her and calmly explain. "He wanted to thank Gibbs personally. The D.A. will drop the witness intimidation charge against Gray in return for a guilty plea to the weapons charge, and he won't do any time."

McGee and Ziva exchange glances before moving on to their own cubicles. Of course McGee mutters something which I'm unable to catch, but I suspect it won't be anything good, judging by the glare I get from Ziva. Never mind.

Now I know for a fact they're confused big time. I did knock them for a loop, didn't I? Boffo! Oh, this is so mean!

-.. .. -. - -.. -.. -

***flashback***

Ziva was with me in the observation room, studying District Attorney Walsh's rant in interrogation when she suddenly, unable to bear the woman's monologue any longer, stomps over to the switchboard to turn off the intercom.

I was grateful for her tuning out the jabbering woman, though it beat me how this Walsh person could so easily get under Ziva's skin. This was so...un-Ziva.

"Thanks. Was getting a headache."

Ziva turned to me incredulously, her eyes mere slits. "Really? This is usually your favorite part - getting to watch reality TV at work, as you call it!"

"People change, Ziva," I replied suavely.

"Yes, but not that quickly," she insisted, snatching the file out of my hands.

She wasn't done yet. "And yet, here we have this...'new' Tony...who arrives early, leaves late, turns down advances from beautiful women and hasn't made a single joke in...what...the last two days?"

So that's what it was all about. I gave an inward sigh. Should've seen it coming. Oh well. In that case, what could I do but play along? This proved to become rather interesting. After all, it was all part of this little game I'd set up.

"I haven't? Are you sure?"

Ziva merely snorted. Hm... Not much she could say to that, apparently, except for that "Hm".

I snaffled the file back and snapped. "Well, we are in the middle of a case."

"It's never stopped you before!" She returned hotly.

"Well, it's stopping me now. I'm sorry if you're losing sleep over it, but I can't be responsible for everyone's feelings!" I retorted just as fiery.

"Everyone? For example?"

"You!...And McGee!...And the Brenda Bitners of this world!" I blurted out.

There. It was out before I knew it. Talk about putting my foot in my mouth.

Well, that certainly got her thinking.

So we ended up talking some more...Brenda Bitner...before Ziva fi-nal-ly voiced what was preying on her mind.

"Look. You are not crazy! You are just...growing up! And some lessons are more painful as we grow older because the stakes are higher. You need to find...balance."

I could only stare into interrogation, where Walsh was relentlessly continuing expressing her displeasure to...nobody in particular – it reminded me of a silent movie and I thought it quite funny.

"And...yes-yes-yes-yes-yessssss! You need to treat people more respectfully. Especially when it comes to matters of the heart."

She looked real hot to me, the way she punctuated almost every word she uttered by waving her arms...and even moving her head this way and that.

She sighed. "You need to be...who you are."

Okay. Now, I was truly flummoxed. I had been reigning in the jokes, the teasing, my frat-boy attitude - heck! myself! And here she tells me to...to be myself again? Granted, they had no idea about my act, nor if, and for how long I was going to keep this façade up. Still, I'd have thought they'd prefer the 'serious' Tony over the 'wisecracking' or 'goofy' version.

"Then, who am I?" I asked softly, staring into her eyes.

"You are Tony DiNozzo, the class clown. And that is why we love you." She answered calmly.

This time, she'd left me not just a little speechless. Did she just say that?

As it soon turned out, she wouldn't be the only one to 'talk sense' into me.

I couldn't tell if Probie had been talked into approaching me by Ziva or if it had been his intention all along, but he was next...and a right time he chose, too.

We were both waiting for the hearing to finish, standing on the corner across the courthouse.

Tim licked his lips and tentatively began. "Listen, Tony..."

I could tell he was genuinely concerned - his hesitant manner spoke volumes - and I sighed. "Not you, too, McGee..."

"Ziva talked to you already?" His eyes went wide.

I nodded and wrung my hands, feeling chilled to the bone. It was cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey and we weren't exactly dressed for long spells in this icy weather.

"And?"

Now I didn't relish the idea of opening my heart to my partner, so I was glad when the perfect excuse in the form of Gibbs and Ziva, walked our way so that I could effectively evade this conversation before it even got well and truly started.

"And? I think the hearing's over."

***end flashback***

-.. .. -. - -.. -.. -

Okay. Seconds to go. Let the party begin. I'm ready.

_Tony sits up a little straighter in his chair and, poker face firmly in place, folds his hands on his desk, taking in the scene as it starts to unfold right before his eyes._

So far, so good. Everything is working out as planned and, quite frankly, I enjoy being the spectator.

Then, all around the, sound erupts with the accompaniment of light effects. With a bang, a technicolor burst of confetti rains down on both Ziva and Tim the second they touch their workstations.

Wo-ho-ho-hoooowwww! That was fabulous! Expertly programmed! It worked! I'm good! Gee! Feels great - like directing a movie!

And Probie and Probette's faces as they jump up from their seats like two scared hares! Priceless. This is so rewarding! And Ziva, my little 'Mossad ninja chick' draws her Sig! I knew it! She's so predictable. I should've timed this: I bet she broke a world record.

And the way how they both eyeball each other, their jaws about to drop to foot level, before turning to stare at me, a picture of innocence, ahem.

I look towards the staircase and there he is, Jerry. So he'd been allowed to come back down halfway to see for himself the results of our combined efforts. He gives me a quick thumbs-up before he turns to mount the stairs again to Vance's office. I can't see Gibbs, but I'm pretty certain he'll be up there, on the landing, too.

Back to my mates...Tim does look a little pale, or am I imagining things? Him fainting on me – pardon me: 'passing out' - wasn't exactly part of the plan. He... Oh good. His color's assuming a darker shade of red now. Uh-oh. He looks pissed, though.

"You!" Ziva asks me accusingly.

Uh-oh. She doesn't look too pleased, either. Ziva giving me the evil eye doesn't forebode anything good. So much for showing some gratitude for my work of art. Oh, and Jerry's, of course.

At least the other occupants of the squad room reward me with an appreciative applause.

Still, I'm left a bit confused, now. "Too much?"

That's it. I've got to keep my reputation intact, so I can finally re-adapt my most charming DiNozzo-trademark grin, which means: all teeth.

"C'mon, guys. Admit it: you've never seen this coming, right? Right?"

McGee is frantically trying to brush as much of the confetti from his hair, clothes and desk as he can. With worried eyes, he surveys his workstation. If he were our labrat, he'd call his computers his babies. Picking up his keyboard, he turns it upside down, shakes it a little, and lets out a resigned sigh as confetti, that had been trapped between the keys, dwindles down to his desk.

By the way McMotherboard peeks at his keyboard, he must be still deciding if it wouldn't be a better idea to just dismantle the damn thing. Following his gaze to the rest of his IT babies, I notice he strongly considers doing this to all his equipment.

*thwack*

Aw crap! Bossman's here. I turn around to face him.

"It's not as bad as it looks, Boss."

"No? Then you tell me, DiNozzo, what this does look like?"

Jerry leans in to give his hand, which I shake.

"Catch you later, Mr Dino."

"It's DiN... Never mind. Thanks, Neisler."

"Any time." And with that, he walks out of the bullpen.

Gibbs, of course, is still standing there, waiting.

"Well?"

"All shall be well, and all shall be well and...all manner of thing shall...be...well." The words peter out.

Hmmm... don't know where that came from, anyway, but... "Not what you wanted to hear, is it, Boss?" I finish lamely.

Gibbs, as I already knew, was not the slightest bit impressed and kept me fixed with his glare.

_Cough_.

"I'll...clear this mess up, Boss. Oh, and by the way," I point towards the flat screen, "happy holidays, Boss!"

I scurry off to get myself a duster from the cleaning closet and start swiping the desks free of the confetti, starting with Gibbs', of course.

To my surprise, I catch the sound of a vacuum cleaner and look up from my menial task. Not exactly what a visitor (of which there seem to be quite a few present, right now) would expect to be part of a Federal Agent's job description. Well, not from one of my calibre, at least.

Man! That's my Probie giving a Freddy Mercury rendition of "I want to break free" NCIS - Tim - version. He's done this before. I'm sure of it. The ease at which he manoeuvres the thing. I'm still staring at his back when Ziva 'dances' in my vision, effectively braking the connection of my eyes with...Tim's backside.

Ziva's eyes twinkle as she mouths, "welcome back, Tony". Then she laughs and playfully brushes my nose with a micro fibre cloth.

Next, McGee drags his vacuum cleaner past me like a pro, offering me a mischievous wink. "Thanks. And...Happy holidays to you, too, Tony."

And Gibbs? He just sits at his now confetti free desk and smiles.

FIN

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_There. I really wanted to write this from Tony's perspective, since he was the one who came up with this crazy idea of surprising his friends. I know I enjoyed this felt a bit awkward writing this, but I do hope it's not too crappy. Feel free to give me your opinion: good or bad, it doesn't matter, as long as it's constructive. English is a foreign language to me, and I prefer to write without making use of a beta. _

_Thanks._


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